


Officer Jack Pattillo, LSPD

by arcstar



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fake AH Crew
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 17:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14815508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcstar/pseuds/arcstar
Summary: It's been eight days since Jack got transferred to Los Santos, and there's something wrong with this island.





	Officer Jack Pattillo, LSPD

Jack takes pride in the fact that he didn’t completely panic when he arrived at the furniture store and saw a familiar Adder pulled up on the sidewalk.  He walked up to it and, sure enough, the giant green logo was clearly visible on the hood. It was parked right next to an urban clothing store.

Jack looked around, a little at a loss for what to do.  He didn’t have his handcuffs, only had his gun because he was told that this isn’t the type of city where you ever walk around without one.  If he waited for backup, he could lose his opportunity to surprise the gang member. He didn’t even have a police radio on him, nor did he have the number of the local station programmed on his phone.

He debated a bit before deciding to call 911.  As soon as the operator answered, he said, “This is Officer Pattillo from the LSPD.  I’ve found a member of the Fake AH Crew. I need immediate backup to the shopping mall on 5th and Johnson.”

“I’m sorry,” came the voice through the line, “what crime are you trying to report?”

Jack tried again.  “I need police assistance.  I’ve found one of the perpetrators of the gas station bombing yesterday and I’m moving to apprehend them.  Requesting backup.”

The tinny voice said, “You wish to report a gas station bombing?  What is the location of this incident?”

“What?  No, there’s no crime to report right now, I’ve just located—“

The phone cut him off.  “I’m sorry, if you are not calling to report an emergency, I cannot help you.”

Jack stared at his phone where it was softly emitting a dial tone, confusion and frustration levels skyrocketing.  He huffed and put it away. He wasn’t sure how much time it would take to look up the station number, and he couldn’t let this opportunity to catch one of the members of the Fake AH Crew go by.  He steeled himself and pulled out his badge, making sure he had easy access to his gun if he’d need it.

Jack took a deep breath and walked in.

There were two people inside the store.  One of them was sitting on a bench behind the counter, steadily tapping away at a smartphone.  “Welcome or whatever,” she called, not even bothering to look up.

The other person was in the back corner, perusing some jackets.  He was sporting messy hair, a distinctive mustache, and arms covered in tattoos.  Jack’s mind flashed back to a side-along view of this very same man in the same car outside, shooting flares with one hand as he steered with the other.  This was undoubtedly the man he was looking for. Jack walked up to him with a single-minded determination and called, “Excuse me.”

The man looked up, seemingly surprised to have been interrupted.  It didn’t look like he was going to say anything, though, so Jack continued.  “Is that your car parked outside? The Adder?”

“Yes?” the man answered, seeming confused more than anything.

“You’re under arrest,” Jack finished, flipping out his badge and stepping in front of the man’s path to the exit.

But instead of running or fighting, like Jack expected, the man just stood there.  “What?” he finally asked.

“My name is Officer Jack Pattillo of the LSPD.  I am placing you under arrest for your participation in the bombing yesterday.”

Jack had hoped that would clear things up, but that seemed to raise more questions in the man’s mind.  “You’re an officer?” he asked. Jack nodded. “Then why aren’t you wearing a uniform?”

“I’m off duty,” Jack replied.

“You’re off duty?” the man echoed.

Rather than play along to this stupid game, Jack moved to grab the man’s arm.  “Come with me, please.”

But the man refused to budge.  “That’s not…you’re an off-duty officer?  Coming to arrest me for something that happened yesterday?  Because you…noticed my car?” Jack just tugged on the man’s arm again, rather ineffectively.  “Did Gavin put you up to this?”

Jack huffed in annoyance.  “Look, I’m sure all of your questions will be answered if you just come with me.”

Suddenly, the man pulled a gun out.  Jack panicked and stepped back to aim his own gun at him.  His focus completely narrowed. Despite having been a cop for five years, this was his first time having a loaded gun pointed at him, and he was hyperaware of every minute movement of the man’s hand.

“Look,” Jack started to say, but had to clear his throat and start again.  “Look, man, I get it, you’re confused, we’re not on the same page here. We can clear this all up easily.  No need for this to get nasty. Let’s just talk this out.” Jack managed to drag his eyes up to the man’s confused expression.

“Why aren’t you shooting me?  You’re….” The man seemed to get an idea, and Jack tensed up again.  “You’re not from here, are you?”

 _Make a connection; remind them that you’re human,_ Jack remembered from his training.  “Just moved from Texas a week ago.”

“One week?!”  The man devolved into giggles, and by the time he straightened back up, Jack saw no sign of the gun.  He lowered his own but refused to completely put it away. “You’ve been here for one week as a cop, and you’re trying to arrest me?”

Jack couldn’t decide what to say to that, but the other man didn’t give him too much time before talking again.  “Man, we are gonna have so much fun. I’m Geoff, man. Leader of the Fakes. What was your name?”

“Officer Jack Pattillo.”

“Jack, my friend, my poor, confused friend, I am going to take you on the ride of your life.”

Jack finally recovered from the man’s – _Geoff’s_ – complete personality switch.  “That’s not how this works. We’re going to have to go to the precinct before we go anywhere else.”

Geoff shook his head, smiling.  “Jack, you’ve been here seven days now.”

“Eight.”

“Eight days now.  Which is a record, mind you.  Haven’t you noticed that something’s wrong with this island?”

Jack frowned.  “It’s a strange place, sure, and the crime rate is absolutely ridiculous.  But I’m trying to fix that. As part of the force.”

“Not what I mean, buddy.  Have you seen the stats here?  The theft rate? Homicide rate?”  Jack frowned, not remembering having read any of those, but that didn’t mean much.  Probably. “What about the gas station incident yesterday? How many people died? How many _cops_ died?”

“Is that a threat?” Jack asked.

“Not my point,” Geoff replied.  “Cops died, we got away, and then what?  They sent you home? Why isn’t there a giant manhunt happening right now?”

Jack frowned.  He’d known two officers to be killed on duty before, back in Austin.  There was a very large, well-funded funeral and every effort was made to locate the killers within two days.  But here, he hadn’t heard the names of the officers who died, didn’t even know the exact number.

Geoff continued.  “And now, you’re the first person to coincidentally run into someone who may be connected to the bombing?  Despite the giant tag on my car and the fact that I’m just casually going about my day?”

“What are you trying to say?” Jack asked, finally willing to give consideration to the other man’s points.  “That the police are compromised? You’ve, what, bought them out?”

“Nope.  That’s the best part,” Geoff explained gleefully.  “We didn’t have to buy anyone out. Because they’re not _real people!_ ”

The two men stared each other down in the middle of the store.  Geoff was expectant, obviously taking a disproportionate amount of exuberance from presenting the situation.  Jack was mostly just confused and a bit on edge, and it showed on his face. The store clerk was still very interested in her phone.

“If they’re not real people, then what are they?” Jack asked slowly.  He could hardly believe he was entertaining this theory, but Geoff was making sense, and he needed answers.

“We don’t know for sure.  They follow rules but, past that, can’t think for themselves, like computers.”

Jack shook his head.  “I would know if everyone I met here was a computer.  They’re smart, they talk to me.”

“They’re well-constructed, but they’re not perfect.  Haven’t you noticed?”

Jack’s mind flashed with every off-color comment he’d heard since he got there.  “Prove it,” he said, not willing to let himself think too much about it.

Geoff’s grin widened.  “My pleasure. If—“ he let that word hang in the air for a moment.  Jack could feel his pulse racing. “If you join my crew.”

“No!” Jack insisted, horrified.  He had worked his entire life to protect the innocent, and even just the idea of going against that shook him down to his core.

“Fine,” Geoff huffed, seeming to sense Jack’s unwillingness to budge on that issue.  “Think about it, at least.” He threw in a wink for good measure. “Then I want two things.  One: the chance to explain everything.”

“That’s fair,” Jack conceded.

“And two: you to not participate in any police prosecution of any of the Fakes.”

Jack considered.  That was the equivalent of being bought out, which was unacceptable for him, but he’d have to compromise something in order to get the information he wanted.  “I can’t just refuse to do my job whenever it comes to your crew. I can give my word to not _lead_ any prosecution against any of you.”

“And to contribute minimal effort to any Fake-related investigations you do participate in.”

“What?  No! That’s practically the same thing.”

“Well you’ve gotta give me something,” Geoff argued.

“I can not tell anyone that I saw you here today,” Jack retorted.

“Covering your ass?  I like it.” Geoff offered his right hand with a crazy grin.  Jack took it hesitantly, but made sure to shake it firmly. And then Geoff retrieved his pistol.

Panicked, Jack realized he had let his gun arm relax completely during the conversation, and he pointed it back at Geoff.  But Geoff’s gun aimed in a completely different direction, and he just raised his eyebrows at Jack rather than look worried.

“Haven’t we gone past the need for that by now?” Geoff teased.

“Do you have a permit for that?”

Geoff laughed, but stared him down rather than answer.  Finally, Jack let his arm fall again, but did not loosen his grip.  A beat.

Geoff shot twice into the racks of clothing.

“What the fuck!” Jack couldn’t help but yell.  He at least kept his gun down when he noticed Geoff had just put his pistol back away afterwards.  He still didn’t seem to be in any danger, even if he couldn’t say the same for the merchandise.

Geoff just grabbed a hat and brought it up to the clerk – _oh shit the clerk is still here_ , Jack thought.  She was unfazed, still tapping away at her phone.

“I’d like to buy this, please,” Geoff stated.

“We’re closed,” she droned in that same dull intonation that she had greeted Jack with earlier.

Geoff just dropped the hat and raised an eyebrow at Jack.

“A single teenager unconcerned about her well-being doesn’t prove anything,” Jack said.  “No offence,” he added to her. She ignored him.

“Fine,” Geoff sighed, and led the way to the door.  “We’re taking my car.”

Jack was forced to put his gun away when they stepped outside, trying to avoid causing public panic.  But even though obvious gunshots had just come from the store, nobody outside seemed to care. There was no running, no screaming, no distant sound of sirens approaching.  He followed Geoff into the two-seater, and they were off.

Jack regretted letting Geoff drive.  He was wild and obeyed just the bare minimum of traffic laws.  Despite this, they managed to reach the pier causing no accidents (but leaving a wake of cursing drivers on their trail).

“Do you even have a license?” Jack asked when he stepped out.  Geoff hopped onto the car.

“You should probably step back,” he warned.  Jack stepped back a respectful few feet. “A little more.”  Geoff waited a moment, and then seemingly pulled a rocket launcher out of thin air.

“Put that down,” Jack ordered in his most stern police voice, and aimed his own gun at Geoff.  Again.

Geoff ignored him and aimed up at the sky.  “Wanna see something really cool?”

“Put it down, now.”  Jack’s hands were trembling.

Geoff huffed and stared down Jack.  “I promise I won’t kill anyone. Put your gun away, you’re scaring people.”

“You’re holding a rocket launcher!” Jack argued.

“This is just a really heavy-duty firework launcher.”  He pointed at a spot up in the sky, far above the ferris wheel.  “Check it out.”

And then Geoff blew up the Ferris Wheel.

Jack could hear nothing but screams coming from that direction.  He couldn’t tear his eyes off the destruction until sirens started blaring on the mainland.

“You motherfucker,” Jack yelled, and started storming towards Geoff.

“Get in,” Geoff ordered, already opening his door.

“You’re under arrest.  Keep your-”

“Get in unless you want to die.”

“-hands where I can see them-”

“Jack?  Everyone here saw you drive up with me.”  That pulled Jack to a quick stop. “If you arrest me here, we both go to jail.  Your career is over.”

“I have to--you killed so many people,” Jack stuttered.

“Then get in the car and if you still want to arrest me when we arrive, I promise I’ll let you.”

“Like how you promised not to kill anyone?”

Geoff smirked.  “I cross my heart.”  Then he hopped into the car and started it up, obviously waiting on Jack.

Jack looked one last look at the flaming pier, paused a moment to contemplate exactly how much deep shit he was in, and ducked into the passenger seat.  He fumbled around for something to cover his face with. He managed to locate a pair of sunglasses in the glove compartment and hoped that would be enough with how darkly the windows were tinted.  He left his gun trained on Geoff, although at this point it was doing so little to make him feel in control of the situation it may as well have been a prop.

Unbothered, Geoff swerved back onto the mainland.  Within a few blocks he had some cop cars trailing him, and he had to navigate into some abandoned subway tunnels to lose them.  Once the sound of sirens had faded out for a few minutes, Geoff pulled back onto the roads, seemingly unworried about getting spotted again by the LSPD.

Jack pressed the gun against the man’s head.  “Stop the car.”

The car accelerated, and Geoff pulled his eyes off the road to grin lazily at him.  “No.”

“Pull over!”

“We’re going,” Geoff checked the dash, “80 right now.  You shoot me and we both die.”

Jack looked ahead.  They were on a relatively deserted straightaway, but a turn was coming up fast and Geoff _still wasn’t looking at the road_.  “You told me you’d let me arrest you.”

“When we arrive.”  Geoff’s grin grew. “Unless you want to try your luck shooting me now.  Your call.”

Jack gritted his teeth.  The car was already drifting into the median.  Heart pounding, he yelled, “Fine!”

Geoff winked and turned back to the road, deftly pulling the car into the correct lane.  Jack kept his gun against Geoff’s head, ready to fire the moment they got slow enough to risk a crash.  The problem was that, despite going through a dozen intersections, the car never stopped. It never even strayed below 30.  Even through multiple red lights and tight turns.

Half an hour after Jack watched the Del Perro Pier Ferris Wheel get blown up, Geoff’s car rolled up to it functioning fully and devoid of any damage, construction, or crime scene tape.

Geoff parked casually across three spots, rummaged around behind his seat, and left the car.  Jack didn’t even think to stop him, too busy staring at the impossibly intact pier. When Jack had managed to calm his internal freakout enough to function, he left the car to find Geoff leaning against the hood drinking a soda.  He wordlessly offered a second can up to Jack.

Twenty minutes later, when Jack was fed up with watching the seagulls, he finally broke the silence.  “That was impossible.”

Geoff grinned.  “It’s time for you to meet the Fake AH Crew.”

 

 ---

 

The ding of the elevator was what finally pulled Jack back into the real world. The doors opened to a spacious apartment, with an open floor plan and lots of windows. Jack’s brain was too fried to pay attention to which building they had pulled into but the windows showed it to be on the west side of the city, perfectly placed to view the sunset. Geoff led him to a stool in the kitchen and offered him a drink. He declined. Geoff slid a whiskey in front of him anyway, another soda in his own hand.

“Welcome to the penthouse,” Geoff proclaimed. “Base of operations and home to myself.”

Jack knew what this meant. If he didn't agree to join them, they were going to kill him. He downed his whiskey.

"Gavin!" Geoff yelled without preamble. From elsewhere in the suite, a muffled yell and three thumps sounded out. Half a minute later, two men emerged from the hallway, hair ruffled and clothing askew.

"Good timing, Geoff, Jeremy was trying to suffocate me," the taller one said, voice distinctly British.

"That's 'cause you're a ‘mingy little cheat,’" the other one, probably Jeremy, said. He punctuated that with a jab to the first man's abdomen, which led to a squawk and the beginnings of another scuffle.

"Business now, revenge later," Geoff ordered, breaking the two up. They parted easily, finally turning their attention to the newcomer.

"Who's this, then?" asked the British one.

"He new to the business?" asked Jeremy.

Geoff smiled proudly. "This, boys, is Officer Jack Pattillo of the LSPD. We're recruiting him."

Jeremy started laughing at that. Gavin frowned. "You mean he's one of our guys that we're planting in the LSPD? I thought we decided against that plan."

"Nope," answered Geoff, still smirking. He poured Jack another drink.

Jeremy finally stopped laughing. "Alright then, who is he really? One of the Funhaus interns?"

Jack eyed his new drink and sipped it a bit slower than the last one. He'd let Geoff deal with all the explaining, since he himself still didn't know what was going on.

"No, really. Jack here tried to arrest me while I was shopping earlier."

"You brought a bloody NPC into our base?!"

"No," Jeremy said slowly. Jack looked up to find him staring thoughtfully. "He's not an NPC. You new in town, then?" Jack nodded in reply.

"I officially declare you to be the brains of Team Lads," Geoff exclaimed to Jeremy. Then, to Jack, "Jack, these are the two youngest of my crew. The British fuck is Gavin and the walking rainbow is Jeremy."

Jeremy stepped forward to shake Jack's hand and Jack noted the bright purple in his hair, which matched poorly with his orange shirt, yellow shorts, and green shoes. "I am Monster Truck," he said very seriously.

"Nice to meet you," Jack said, dumbfounded.

Gavin didn't bother going for the handshake, instead injecting himself into Jack's personal space. "You're a bit confused, aren't you? Don't worry, I'll show you the ropes. This entire island will soon be your oyster."

Against his better judgement, Jack protested, "But, I still don't know if I'm joining yet. I'm not like you guys."

Gavin started to pull away. "Don't worry, there's a very easy way to tell if you're one of us or not." He smiled a very unsettling smile, but before he could do anything else, Geoff put his hand out to stop him.

"Nope," Geoff ordered, "we're going to let him make this decision for himself."

"Come on Geoff," Gavin whined, "can't we just speed it up a bit?"

"No, don't do what you did with me," Jeremy said. "Give him a choice." Gavin pouted, but threw himself onto the next stool rather than argue.

Geoff went back around the counter to fill Jack's glass again--shit when did that get empty--but Jack stopped him this time, already feeling the effects of his previous drinks. Which is probably why he didn't notice anyone else enter the apartment until a deeper voice said from right behind him, "So who's this?"

Startled, Jack whirled around and came face-to-chest with a man in a dark leather jacket, combat boots, and _the creepiest goddamn skull mask he could ever imagine._ Before Jack could embarrass himself by falling out of his chair, the man clapped a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to look him in the eye.

"New guy, huh?" he mused. "I hope you like it here." He winked. Jack swallowed.

After a second, Geoff intervened. "Lay off, you'll give the poor dude a heart-attack," Eyes glinting, the skull relented, stepping past Jack to grab a freshly cracked Diet Coke with a straw from Geoff. Then he situated himself in the corner of the room and lounged against the wall in a way that shouldn't have been as comfortable as he made it look.

Jack knew who that was from the sparse files he had managed to dig up on the Fakes when he went rooting around the precinct. Imposing figure, one-of-a-kind skull mask, and proficiency in way more weaponry than any one person would ever need to know. Dozens of casualties, both citizen and officer, could be attributed solely to him, and that was only what the LSPD was absolutely sure about. That was the Vagabond.

"Vagabuddy--" Jack wrenched his eyes over to Geoff in surprise of the nickname, "this is Officer Jack Pattillo of the LSPD. We're recruiting him. Jack, this is Ryan, who is way less scary once you actually get to know him."

The Vagabond--Ryan--sipped noisily from his straw. "When you say Officer..." he started.

Geoff continued. "Jack here is the LSPD's most recent transfer from the mainland. He's been very confused, to say the least. He tried to arrest me earlier today, so I blew up the Ferris Wheel. He's agreed to hear us out."

 _Sure,_ Jack thought, _that’s a perfectly valid series of events._ He was dimly aware that the cynicism was just a coping mechanism for his confusion, but he really didn't care.

"Officer Pattillo," the Vagabond nodded.

"Call me Jack," he replied, not being able to stomach being called an officer while he consorted with the worst gang he had ever laid eyes on.

"What do you think about all of this, Jack?"

Jack met his eyes, surprised at the fact that Ryan seemed to be genuinely curious. "I don't know. You tell me that nobody in this town is actually real, and that nothing that happens is permanent. I'm questioning everything I thought I ever knew. At this point you could probably tell me that gravity is just a myth and I'd probably go with it."

Ryan laughed at that, not mockingly, but heartily, and replied, "As far as I know, it's only things on this island that seem to be weird. Everything in the outside world remains unchanged. Including gravity."

"It makes no sense.  I guess I want proof," Jack continued, "that everyone else on this island, including the civilians, are...NPCs, as you call them."

"Not everyone is," Geoff interrupted. "But most are. Funhaus, friends of ours, keep tabs on transportation and pick up newcomers. I guess you slipped through the cracks 'cause they saw you were a cop."

"How many...people like you...are here?" Jack asked.

"About a dozen total scattered around the city, and...62? 63? on the whole island."

"What do you do to the ones who don't want to join your crew?"

"We don't make the offer to most. A lot of them aren't interested in what we do, and those who are tend to prefer the lower-risk stuff that Funhaus does. We let them vet everyone to judge who might be a good choice."

Ryan, having understood the real reason Jack asked the question, slid in. "Everyone on the island does what they want. We don't bother any real people. We certainly don't ever send anyone to their grave." Jack sighed in relief. It looked like he was safe, even if he decided not to join.  But then Gavin started giggling, and any amount of reassurance Jack had just felt was immediately undermined.

Jeremy saw that and soothed him. "Ryan wasn't lying. There are some things we haven't told you yet, but they're of no danger to you. Pinky promise." And then he hopped forward with his pinky out like he was actually expecting Jack to shake it with his.

Gavin explained, "Pinky promises around here are serious. If the other person goes back on their promise, you get to shoot them in the pinky and they have to live with the pain for 24 hours."

Jack looked around the group like they were crazy. Letting somebody shoot you in the pinky and then going without painkillers for a day? Then again, they all seemed to still have all 10 fingers, so he supposed they could be all nonchalant about it since it hadn't actually happened to them yet. They must be serious about the promises they made.

So, hesitantly, Jack took Jeremy's pinky in his and shook. Jeremy grinned at him, somewhat settling his nerves.

It only occurred to him after he shook that if Ryan was lying and they were actually considering killing him, dead men couldn't shoot people's pinkies. _I did not think that through, did I?_ But something about Jeremy's earnestness made Jack want to trust him, so he let it go.

"Ah, fuck," Geoff announced, staring at his phone. "Michael'll be caught up in Sandy Shores all day, so you won't be able to meet him yet." He looked up at Jack. "How about you go home, think about stuff, and meet us back here in three days at 4pm?"

"I have a shift then," Jack protested.

"Fake a stomach bug," Gavin told him.

"Trust me, you won't wanna miss this," Ryan concurred.

Jack was doomed.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if there's anything to fix. Or just drop a comment if you feel like it. Or a kudos, if that's more your style.


End file.
